A Spock By Any Other Name
by Jewel Queen
Summary: Yet another 5&1 story, this time for the 5 names Jim has called Spock over the course of reboot!Trek, and the 1 very important name Spock calls Jim.


**A Spock By Any Other Name:**

**5 Names Jim Called Spock, and 1 Spock Called Jim...because I apparently love this 5&1 things. There was more to this, but it just kept going and going so I cut it off right here at the knees...E&R!**

**T for language (lots of F's going on). Loads of TOS references. No slash until +1, technically pre-slash...**

* * *

**5. Pointy-eared hobgoblin**

* * *

Jim was by no means a xenophobe. He was, what some would say, a _xenophile_ since he loved making love to all sorts of gorgeous and exotic people. But this guy deserved all of his burning hatred.

He was a jerk, through and through. This-this automated, computerized _pointy-eared hobgoblin_ had nothing in its memory banks or hard drives to process emotions. That had to be the answer because the great big elf was driven by logic, so he couldn't possibly comprehend what a total cruel shit-head he was being.

He did nothing wrong. So he implanted a little subroutine into the stupid Commander's simulation, big whoop. Nobody was seeing the point that the test itself was a cheat, so his reward for being creative and thinking outside the box was being labeled a cheater. And James T. Kirk was no cheater.

Well, except in the sense that sometimes he kinda had "girlfriends" already when he saw other people. But that was irrelevant.

This pointy-eared hobgoblin was going to get what's coming to him and he would personally see to it that he be there when it happens. Hell, he was gunning to be the one to give a little hell back to him. He deserved it, the bastard. Nobody made a fool out of him.

And nobody called out his father like that. Especially not pointy-eared hobgoblins like him.

* * *

**4. Vulcan/Spock**

* * *

Vulcan was gone, but their own personal one lost more than that. He could see it in his face when he was transported back.

And Jim felt _awful._

Was it really only a few hours ago that he had been seething with hatred for this guy-this _Vulcan_?

How could it be, when just minutes ago, Starfleet itself was practically ripped apart to save the planet that just imploded and he-

He was so _empty_ inside?

Did they really just encounter a no-win scenario, because he had a nagging feeling that this was exactly what the Kobayashi Maru was supposed to teach him, according to the Vulcan-_Spock_.

God, _Spock._

Spock was now a member of an endangered species. He heard him say so, he watched him _be_ so in Sick Bay. He walked around in a daze-no longer the computer he portrayed himself as-and no one could blame him even though he tried to be of some use to the injured, tried to help his people-the ones that remained. These few were all that were left of Vulcan.

These few were the only survivors-and Spock was one of them.

He wanted to apologize, but words seemed insufficient and insincere in the wake of all this. He wanted to do something to ease his sense of loss, to take his mind away from the all-consuming grief. Hold him, touch him, assure himself that he was real because Jim was so distant a member of this tragedy and even _he_ couldn't believe this was all happening. Couldn't stop wanting to hope it was all just some fucked-up nightmare.

Jim shook his head and moved on to a tiny Vulcan girl, cowering under a table with an obviously hurt arm clutched to her chest. Like most other Vulcans, her dark eyes seemed dead and unfocused but her youth and inexperience betrayed the hurt and confusion and fright in her shaking body and stricken face. Here was someone he could really help, would actually take his help.

He squatted beside her. "Hey, hey there, sweety," she slowly turned to him and blinked mechanically. "Hi, my name's James. Can you tell me yours?"

"Asil," she coughed quietly. Jim scooted closer.

"Asil, that's a beautiful name. Fitting for one so pretty as you," he smiled as he tucked her hair out of her face. Her eyes shone brighter and she sat straighter. the effects of his infallible Kirk charm.

"I _am_ aesthetically pleasing. This is because of my rare genetic make-up," she said with a hint of pride, fear fading away in his presence.

"That's right, I can't recall seeing a blonde Vulcan before," his smile broadened and she shyly curled her lips in return. "Well, Asil, it looks like your arm is injured. Mind if I wrap it for you?"

She shook her head, extending herself to him finally. Gently, he took her into his arms and placed her above the table for better manipulation of her arm. She watched in morbid fascination as he began his job of treating her, looking more alive by the minute even though that meant she looked less emotional. "It doesn't look too deep, Asil, I think we can just wrap it and it'll be fine. You don't want to see me attempt stitches, anyway, I'm no good with pointy things," he teased softly. She just nodded and he grinned at her.

He reached up for a self-sealing bandage nearby and just happened to meet eyes with the same Vulcan he had been monitoring earlier. Instantly, regret and sympathy poured over him and drew his smile into something sadder.

I see you, he wanted to convey, with your pain only a Vulcan can truly understand and I wish I could make it better for you.

I know what pain feels like.

Spock turned away, disappearing as quickly as he came. But Jim liked to think he walked out with less of a weight on his shoulders.

That was the first time he thought of Spock as a Vulcan instead of an officer or a pointy-eared hobgoblin.

* * *

**3. Acquaintance**

* * *

He recognized the first time they were more than co-workers, but not quite so friendly, in a single, short moment.

They were on the Bridge, surrounded by the crew that worked so diligently and effortlessly together to make miracles happen. But when they locked eyes, it was like there was no one else in the universe but them, for now.

"I would quote regulations, but I know you will simply ignore them," Spock said with a quirk of his mouth like he was secretly amused. His first peek behind the mask and he felt ridiculously victorious for it.

"See, we are getting to know each other," he responded, smacking him hard enough that the Vulcan would really feel it and walking away.

Just like that, he knew they were beginning to forge a bond, however fragile it was.

For now, they would just call themselves acquaintances. But it was as good a place as any to start and better than before. He would take what he could get.

Besides, some would say that Spock was the best damn asset in the entire 'fleet and there was no way he'd give that up for the world.

* * *

**2. Friend**

* * *

_"I have been and always shall be your friend, Jim,"_

He could no more forget those words than the raspy tinge of a full life that spoke them in a deep baritone. They were a wish and a promise, both, at the same time. It was his future and, at one time, in another place, his past. But he had never truly believed it could be possible. Not with the Spock in _his_ universe. They just couldn't be the same Spock.

And yet, _it_ happened. It snuck up on him and whacked him in the head from behind. Those sneaky Vulcans-

"Captain?"

He returned his attention to his First Officer with a little "hm?" as he picked up his pawn.

"Your attention has not been on the game for the past 3.46 minutes. May I inquire as to what possesses it in such capacity?"

He blinked a few more times and glanced at the chessboard in front of him. So that is how it happened. He remembered it now. Spock had programmed the ship's computer banks to be able to play a challenging game of chess since he could find none up to his skill level in the humans than dominated the Enterprise and often spent his time off playing stale-mated games of logic and strategy. That's when Kirk walked in, finding the room mostly vacated from boredom and the crew's hesitancy to intrude on Spock's privacy. Of course, he couldn't help himself and made a rather suicidal move before the computer could calculate ts next choice which resulted in his winning Spock's queen only three moves later. Spock commented on his rather illogical brand of thinking and proposed to play a game against him sometime. Which turned out to be monthly events, and then weekly, and then every few days, until it came to today when they played as much their shifts would allow. Spock called it fascinating, Jim found it fun.

And a little odd. They were friends, or at least, Jim _thought_ they were at this point, and Spock was being deliberately obtuse. And not in the fun way where he pretended he didn't understand Jim's colloquialisms.

"Captain Kirk, are you well?"

"Huh, what?" he gave his head a nice shake. "Yeah, no, Spock, I'm fine. I just was...thinking and all of a sudden it occurred to me-we're friends. I mean, you're _my_ friend. Weird, huh?" he teased him, grinning with bright blue eyes.

Spock regarded him for a moment closely, inspecting him for any sign of madness, no doubt. "Indeed, Captain. I, too, came to that assessment from my understanding of human customs,"

"Cool, so we're both agreed on this?" he nodded. "Then, wouldn't you say that, logically, human custom would require that you call me by my first name?"

"Not necessarily. Starfleet outranks interpersonal relationships even between senior officers such as you and I, therefore, it is logical to defer to proper regulations and insist upon calling you by your proper title as anything less would be imprudent," he countered.

Jim felt his jaw go a little slack at that, and searched for something to win their argument here and now. Because he had to if they were going to be friends. He couldn't go around being called Captain all the time. "Yeah, well...aha!" he stood up and stabbed a finger at him. "We're not on duty, so, _technically_, I'm not the Captain and you're not my First Officer. It's just Jim and just Spock, here,"

He put his hands on his hips. "So, Spock, how about _that_?"

His _friend_ took a little time to think it over with a peculiar tilt of his head. "I believe you have checkmated me in this regard...just Jim,"

Jim stared at him, checking to see if his ears had heard right. And then he laughed to the tune of Spock's dancing eyes.

Yeah, he could totally see that whole epic friendship thing Old Spock promised now.

* * *

**1. Brother**

* * *

"No, no, no, no! Spock, come on, you _can't_ die! Don't leave me, _not now_, not when things had been so good-" he clutched at his hand-fuck the whole 'Vulcan, no touchy, especially hands' thing-Spock was _dying_. He choked back a sob. No, he wasn't going to cry, just like Spock wasn't going to die.

"Captain-"

"I won't let you die. You're-you're too important to me, to Starfleet. Do you know how much money they put into you?"

"In training, fifteen thousand, eight hundred a year. Totaling an amount of-"

"Shut up," Jim said hoarsely, squeezing onto the hand he held as if it was the only life-line he'd ever need. That was the only thing kept steady while the rest of his body shook, probably because of Spock's influence. "_Shut up_. You know that's not what I meant, you green-blooded moron,"

Spock's eyes smiled at him, even as the green-coated Science Officer showed no other signs of emotion. Not even pain or distress. "Captain, I assure you, I will be fine,"

"Fine? You're going to be_ fine_? Fine has several definitions and-and what makes you so sure of that? God, _Spock,_" he wiped at his wet cheeks. Dammit, didn't he already say he wasn't going to cry? Stupid emotions. Stupid Vulcans that he gets all attached to go off and sacrifice themselves. "You have a _freaking_ spear in your _heart_. All because you jumped in front of me to spare me. What makes you think you have a right to be so-so reckless?"

"You," Spock murmured softly. Jim stared at him in awe. Was that a real emotion he detected? For _him_, no less? "The Captain's life is less expendable than my own-"

"Fuck that, Spock. You _know_ we break regulations by coming down together. Why did you-why did you-_Spock_," he cried, weakly voicing his protests. Fuck it all, he was an emotional wreck and nothing was going to change that. "You never got to know how much you mean to me..."

"On the contrary, Captain, I _do_ know,"

"Fuck that, too. It's just Jim and-you're dying. _God_, you're _dying_," Jim collapsed on the ground beside him, knees too weak to support his weary frame any more. Spock made a motion like he was going to collect him, but winced half-way through it and laid back down stiffly instead.

"Just Jim," Spock breathed. Jim started to laugh uncontrollably, until it hurt. Until _everything_ hurt. Then the tears really fell and he didn't try to hold them in this time. He crawled over to the Vulcan slowly, aware of his dark eyes watching his every move. And he laid his head on his chest so that he could be even closer to him. God, it was like he couldn't get close _enough_.

"Okay," he sniffled. "I'm just going to do it anyway. I'm just gonna go right out and say it: I love you, Spock. You're like the brother I never had, a real one who doesn't ditch me, _ever_ as we can see. You're-you're my best friend and I love you,"

Spock waited a beat, and then said with some difficulty, "You are repeating yourself, Jim,"

"Shut up. It's the most important part. You are more than a friend to me, you're _family_, so, tough shit. I'm not letting you sacrifice yourself just so _I_ can live. I'm going to stay with you until-until Scotty and Chekov find us once the ion storm blows over and then be right by your side while Bones stitches you back together, okay?"

"Jim," Spock's chest rumbled underneath him. He suspected he was holding in the urge to cough blood specks all over his Captain and he felt an odd rush of affection for his stupid Vulcan thinking about cleanliness at a time like this. "It is unlikely that we will be found by our crew...before the natives return...whereupon you will also be fatally...injured. Your only hope...for survival is-"

"I _said_, shut up. And you already tried to sell me that before. I'm going to stay with you, regardless. If we live, we live together. If not..." his blue eyes glinted dark in a way that was far from aesthetically pleasing. "I'm going to take as many as those sons of bitches down while I can,"

Spock may have laughed at that; it was hard to tell if the rasping noise he made was a cough or not, since a cough would have made more sense than a chuckle at his Captain because Spock didn't chuckle. "Illogical human," he panted.

"Stubborn Vulcan," he shot right back. There was silence for awhile and Jim just listened to the rustling noises of the wind through the trees above them and the ever-so amazing sound of Spock's ragged breathing. If he only had this to listen to for the rest of his life, he could be content-he'd be happier if Spock's breathing didn't sound so laboured.

"Jim," he rasped suddenly.

Jim picked his head up to look at his face instead of the various shades of the green jungle world around them. "Yeah, Spock?" he called softly.

"You speak figuratively...emotionally...but with due allowance for this...I, too, consider you..._k'war'ma'khon_. My brother," he murmured and then slid his eyes shut. His breathing slowed even more until Jim could not hear it at all or feel it.

"Spock? _Spock?!_" he practically shrieked. "No, no, _no, no_! _Not now_-not_ ever_," he pulled him into his chest and hugged him tight as he wept all over him.

"Why did you have to leave me? Why did you take him from me? _Why?_" he screamed furiously into the sky without knowing who he thought he was addressing. They had already learned the natives didn't understand one iota of their language right away. A startled few birds flew away in the distance. "He was my best friend, my _brother,_ and _you took him from me_!"

There was so much anger in him, so much hatred, that it scared him. He had been joking-sort of-about taking down a few of the natives. But now that the moment came...He wanted to hurt someone like the way he had been hurt. He wanted blood and revenge.

He wanted to _kill_.

But he was James T. Kirk, Captain of the USS _Enterprise _and Spock, his pacifist First Officer, had just died to save him. He couldn't do any of those things-he wouldn't no matter how much he wanted to. Instead, he let loose a howl of pure fury and grief, heard it echo around him like a deranged animal before it tapered off into the cry of a broken man. And then, he had nothing left inside him to fight, to carry on. He was so exhausted that all he wanted to do was sleep and never wake up.

Of course, that didn't last.

"Who are you?" he growled, standing up to automatically protect Spock's corpse. "What do you want?"

These people in their shimmering white robes were not the same as the natives-tanned and naked but for war-paint and feathers-that they had seen and there were only three of them instead of a good hundred. The one in the middle stepped forward. "We have come to apologize. It was not our intention to cause you this much pain. We only wished to judge your actions,"

"_Fuck you_," he snarled, clenching his fists together at his sides.

The brave one took another step forward, long bony hand stretching out towards him. He jerked away from his pale touch. "Let me heal your soul,"

"I don't want you to do anything to me, dammit," Jim snapped. "You already took him away from me, I'll not let you take anything more!"

Hooded guy number one nodded to the guy on his left and that shade floated over to Spock. "Leave him alone, you bastard!" he immediately shouted. But he couldn't stop him from pressing one pale finger to Spock's forehead.

Spock sat up, coughing, eyes wide, right after that and the dude vanished. "Jim," Spock gasped, shifting to him automatically. They both looked down, but not a trace of the weapon or injury could be seen. His shirt was even back to looking all spiff and span like he normally had it.

"Spock," Jim choked, rushing to him and hugging him. "I thought I lost you,"

His Vulcan actually returned the hug and he laughed in the midst of his happy tears, pulling him tighter. "Thankfully, it appears not to be so,_ sa-kai_,"

"Your pain has ceased," the first guy spoke up again, breaking up the happy reunion. "This is most curious,"

"I disagree," Spock answered, seeming to shock them and Jim as well. "Humans often feel emotions for others in what is called empathy. Ones that have a high degree of it for another would therefore be adversely affected by their death in proportionate amounts. It is quite logical,"

The two remaining floating cloths looked at each other and nodded. "We will welcome the Federation and interfere no longer. You may do as you wish, no harm shall befall you," And then they too were gone.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "That is most curious. Such an advanced species reverting to violent methods in order to test explorers is highly illogical," Jim beamed and shook his head at his Spock. He couldn't believe that all this had just happened. Spock had died, he had seen it-_felt it_-and here he was, back to normal. It was so surreal. He didn't think he would ever be able to get the image of Spock dying out of his mind. He shuddered.

"Jim? Are you well?" They were still wrapped around each other, so Spock must have noticed.

"Yeah, I'm just great," he said, grinning again. "I have my brother back,"

* * *

**+1. Th'y'la**

* * *

Jim couldn't take his eyes off him for the next few weeks, couldn't keep his hands from reaching out and touching him just to make sure he was real. Spock was very accommodating about it all. He tolerated Jim's odd behaviour with the faintest of knowing smiles. "_Sa-kai_, I am here," he would say with that shine in his eyes, or, "Do not worry, Jim. All is well,"

Of course, Bones thought he had lost his mind-that they both did. Especially when there was no evidence to corroborate anything of what they had experienced on "Nightmare Planet" as Jim coined it. (Turns out, the real natives were those ghost-looking guys that had telepathic and matter-converting powers). And Uhura had this pinched-sour look on her face every time he got near Spock.

In fact, she was probably the one taking his transition the hardest. He forbade Spock from joining on any away-missions no matter how safe, or how many security guards beamed down, or even if he went for a little while. Uhura had practically spat in his face when he did that, stopping him from going as a Science Officer to take some readings on flora that he deemed "fascinating" and promptly got into an argument of regulations and unfair treatment with him until he was forced to concede the whole "no trips" thing altogether. She also circled them like a shark when they drew close together and tried to edge him away when it seemed like they were spending a _little_ _too_ _much_ time together or stood a _little too close_ together.

But, eventually, Jim stopped worrying so much and things died down. Which was a good thing, because all that watchful hawk nonsense had started to take its toll on Uhura which Jim _was_ sorry for. He definitely didn't want to be that guy that broke the two of them up because, gosh darn it, those babies were going to be freakin' models. Even more so when he discovered that, maybe, his platonic "brotherly" love for Spock had enough room to nurture a crush. And that wasn't a good thing.

He learned to deal with it, though. And with enough layers of denial and reasons why it was best not to open that can of worms, he functioned just fine around Spock. Like a good Captain should.

Unfortunately, since his logs-and Spock's, he should point out-were enough for Starfleet, they had been sent on as many "milk runs" as possible since "Nightmare Planet" which gave Jim ample time for thinking. That was the real reason this all started.

"ETA, Mr. Chekov,"

"Still zhirteen, 'ours, Keptain," the young Ensign replied, as bright and peppy as always even though he had to be just as bored as the rest of them.

"Nothing interesting in space, anyone?" he offered up, to get some talk going. All he got going was a chorus of "no, sir"s. He sighed and twisted in his chair with one hand drumming on the arm rest and the other propping his chin. He had sort of a fuzzy feeling in his head that he attributed to either boredom or lack of sleep, but if he gave it the equivalent of a mental jab, he got the sense that something was hiding behind it. Something important.

In fact, it rather felt like a more static version of the connection he had during his brief stay on Delta Vega. He wasn't stupid. As soon as Old Spock gave him a mind meld up close and personal, he could identify that he was the one tossing out the names for the giant shellfish and nasty polar bear that tried to eat him. Because _hengrauggi_? Yeah, even with his "dynamic" mind, he couldn't make that one up. That had to have come from somewhere.

Same as with whatever was clinging to the shadows of his mind. But he couldn't go up and ask Spock to dig around. For one, he didn't even know what it was. And two, most importantly, it was a serious thing for Vulcans and Uhura wouldn't like it. Besides, it wouldn't be that difficult to poke around his own head and figure it out. And it's not like he had anything better to do with his time.

With a set expression on his face, he dove deeper and deeper into his mind until all that he was aware of was darkness and the cloud that hid his treasure. 'Go away,' he thought to it. 'Shoo. Leave. Remove yourself.'

Predictably, nothing happened. It was fixed just as firmly as ever. He wondered what Spock would do.

It shifted. It _moved_. Right. Okay. So it had something to do with Spock. He remembered the first time he saw him, sleek in Professor black at the Academy. He remembered the first time he heard him, accusing him of cheating, parading his father's name around to taunt him. God, he was so angry. It was funny now. Even more so when Old Spock told him of how none of that happened in his time. It was amazing how two people could have the worst of beginnings and come together to make the best of endings-not that their ending had come yet, they still had a long way to go. Maybe he could get Old Spock to give him the keys to avoid all the rough spots that they and the _Enterprise_ crew were going to get into over the course of their careers.

It wasn't enough. It only dissipated a little. He had to focus on Spock. But focus on _what_?

His intelligence? He had called him a computer from the start, and even though he was a genius, Spock was still insanely smarter than him. Just ask their chess record. He could quote anything and everything because his amazing brain was wired to retain it all-and Jim had long since stopped being fooled by his ignorant Vulcan act-he knew equal parts of Vulcan and Terran and they bonded over a shared love for the Classics and history. Plus, he made the most adorable nerd whenever he found something that was "fascinating". It was part of the reason why he loved him so much.

His strength? He had always known that Spock was toned-Starfleet regulation outfits never left anything to the imagination for both sexes-and they spared every once in a while once Jim had somehow convinced him to let him practice with someone stronger than him because he was tired of getting his ass handed to him by all these species who were naturally stronger than him. But he was pretty sure Spock was only humouring him since he never allowed him to get too close-touch telepathy and all-and it was obvious that the pacifist had lethal skills, although the only combat move he ever used was the Vulcan Neck Pinch out of his respect for all life forms. Which was another reason why he fell in love with him.

His appearance? It was clearly obvious that he was a Vulcan-pointed ears alone-and more than attractive enough to qualify for Jim's standards. But that wasn't why he loved him so.

Everything else about him? There was so much about him. Spock is just so amazing and incredible. He was helpless before him. It was like asking the sun not to shine. It was impossible not to love him with every iota of his being. Impossible not to fall in love with him more and more every day.

Oh. Well, then. No more use denying it; this was no longer an innocent crush. It was something more. Something other than this, more than commitment, with greater passion than just companionate love. It was nothing that could be made to understand in a simple concept, more than just a simple feeling. It was layered and complex and it could only be defined in such a layered and complex way that it had to take an exceptionally powerful word or phrase to even come near to what he was felt.

And then his breath caught, because the cloud was gone and what was left was so beautiful and_ perfect_.

"_T'hy'la_," he breathed. He shivered and spoke the word again, this time with more feeling, more confidence. "_T'hy'la_," Yes, this was it. Whatever this word meant, it was what Spock meant to him. And-

And everyone was staring at him.

He blinked. Sulu and Chekov were looking at him curiously, wondering what had prompted him to speak something so strange, much like all the other Ensigns and Yeomen. Uhura glared at him with a furious hatred and terrible sadness. The same tired weight from before returned and draped itself across her shoulders in a show of defeat. But Spock-

Spock was standing ramrod straight and staring unabashedly at him with wide eyes sparkling full of awe and wonder and surprise and happiness and joy-a whirlwind of emotions for a Vulcan. He looked like he was hardly daring to breathe. "Jim-Captain," he corrected himself and Spock _never_ corrected himself. He took a step forward and swallowed audibly. "What did you say?"

"Uh,_ t'hy'la_," he said once again, shoving down his response to the tickle along his spine that accompanied it. "Why, am I pronouncing it wrong?"

"No, you aren't," Uhura said bitterly. "Not that it matters. _You weren't supposed to be the one that knows it exists-_and yet, here you are,"

"Why not?" he asked, swinging his eyes back to Spock. The Bridge was silent, rapt to this rare display.

"Because, Jim, that word only belongs in a Vulcan mind or that of his bondmate's. And, even then, few utilize it to its true namesake," Spock answered after a long pause.

"Well, what does it mean? I felt that it exited in the back of my head, but I couldn't get it out...until I thought of _you_."

If he didn't know any better, he would have said that the Vulcan preened at his statement. "Precisely, Jim," his eyes gleamed with even more joy. "That is exactly what it means. Of course, in my case, _t'hy'la_ means you, as I have called you thus ever since I returned to life,"

"No, you didn't," he said, racking his brain for any memory he had where he could have heard this word spoken before. He would have known if it was true. "You only called me _sa-kai_, brother,"

Spock shook his head, folding his arms behind him. "No, Jim," he continued softly. "I have not called you this out loud, I have called you so in the only places that matter: in my _katra_...and in my _heart_,"

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked in a whisper.

His eyes dimmed with sadness, or perhaps, regret. "I had not dared to hope that you would return my affections. And you had named me your brother, a title I gladly accepted not only because it brought you happiness, but because any part of your life was better that nothing,"

Jim slowly grew a smile. "Stubborn Vulcans," he tsked. Spock raised his eyebrow. "You're lucky I like you so much that I put up with all this trouble you cause me,"

Spock's lips twitched. "Indeed, I am, Jim,"

_For you have been and always shall be mine._

* * *

VLD references:

katra: soul

sa-kai: brother

k'war'ma'khon: family that one is not related genetically to


End file.
